Book of the Dead
by Narnian at Heart
Summary: Carl decides to preserve the memories of all those they lost along the way.
1. Amy

**Today, as I was doing paperwork after a run at the ambulance base, I started thinking about characters we've lost on The Walking Dead. I had this image in my mind of a statue of Daryl Dixon being erected in the new civilization if they found the cure for the Walker disease and Daryl died before it was fixed (weird, I know, my mind wanders when I'm doing boring stuff). And so I thought, instead of a statue, a book! Books last forever and someone needs to record the events of the group for the future...**

**So this fic was born. Take a look and see what you think :)**

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My name is Carl Grimes and I am a current survivor of the end of our world as we knew it. History was never my greatest subject in school but I realize now how important it is. People who made history and the people who recorded it for the future are equally important, but someone has to step up and be the one to document the current events...so that is why I'm writing this book now, so that whoever is reading this now will know what we went through, know the struggle, but most of all, know the people we lost so that they will live on forever in these pages.

**AMY**

I was very young when Amy died and I only remember her from the times she kept Sophia and I entertained during our time we camped out in the rock quarry outside Atlanta, but I DO remember that she was absolutely beautiful. The "apocalypse" had just started and we were all new to the dangers and horrors of the dead who had risen up and started devouring the living. Amy was a sister, and a very good sister as I remember, to a woman named Andrea and the two of them were devoted to one another completely. I remember Amy and Andrea laughing, I remember them crying too, but I mostly remember their fierce loyalty.

Andrea went on a run for supplies into Atlanta with a few others from the quarry and they were late; Amy was pacing the camp near the speaker of the radio as she waited for them to check in with an update and tell us all why they weren't back yet. The radio crackled to life and Amy was kneeling next to it in a flash. There was a garbled mention of being surrounded in an apartment store and then the static cut out the rest...

Amy and my mom insisted on mounting a rescue to get them back but Shane insisted it was too dangerous, assuring everyone that the runners would wait it out and come back when it had calmed down. I was convinced, back then I thought Shane knew everything. Amy was not convinced and she continued to stare down the road, waiting for them to return, for hours.

Andrea did return and my dad, who had been missing since the outbreak, was with her. For a few days, everything was perfect.

Amy loved to fish and so did her sister, so they both went out in the water filled quarry to see if they could catch anything and they certainly did, happily telling everyone we would be having fish for dinner. So the night found us all sitting around the campfire, eating the best meal we'd had in days and listening to Dale talk about the concept of time and reciting lines from a book or poem. Amy told Dale, "You're so weird." and excused herself to go to the restroom claiming it was impossible to be discreet anymore.

And the next time I saw Amy, a Walker had her by the arm, his teeth buried in her forearm. I still remember the terrified and painful screams that were Amy's, the horrified and disbelieving shrieks that were Andrea's...and the blood. It was the first time I'd ever seen anyone get bitten and I was too shocked to look away. The Walker moved from her arm and bit her between her neck and shoulder, tearing a chunk out of her that was visible even from where we all sat by the fire, shocked and unable to react fast enough to save her.

I didn't see Amy die; my mom swept me into her and held me so tight I couldn't breathe, let alone see, but I saw her come back to life. Amy's beautiful blue eyes were blank, empty and she gurgled and wheezed as her brain stem kick started her basic physical functions. She reached for Andrea who was kneeling beside her as she had all night and it almost seemed as if she recognized her for a moment...but then we all saw that Amy's corpse was reaching for Andrea's neck, drawn to the pulse point behind her ear like a tiger to a deer. Andrea put Amy down for the final time and I will always remember that moment and I would all too soon be feeling the same loss as Andrea was now.

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**Ok so there's the start. Each chapter will be about a character we lost through Carl's eyes. What do you all think so far? **


	2. Ed

**Chappie numero twa! **

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**ED**

Not everyone in history is a hero and not everyone is good, Ed is one of those that falls in the middle ground of not being a Walker but also not being a good human.

Ed Peletier was someone I generally avoided. He was big, smelly, scary and all around mean and I was just a kid so he frightened me. I saw how he treated his wife, Carol, and his daughter, Sophia, and wondered how someone could be so awful to their own family. Carol had lots of bruises and when I asked my mom about them she told me not to talk about it, that it was nothing important to me.

Sophia was very fun to be around and we got along great but she was always looking over her shoulder or she would jump at sounds behind her and if she started laughing too loud she would automatically shush herself and speak quieter. It was odd to me, I didn't understand at the time.

Ed was lazy and never did anything to help around the camp. He would toss his dirty clothes on top of the newly clean clothes Carol would be carrying back from the water in a basket and tell her to do them over again, he would eat as much as he wanted and Carol and Sophia split what was left, he yanked Carol around by her arms and I could tell she wanted to cry, he never spoke to the women of the camp...except for that one time.

My mom had come to get me from the lake where Shane and I were trying to catch frogs and a the ladies were doing laundry while Ed leaned against his vehicle and watched. I heard them laughing and talking about missing coffee makers and washing machines and it was kind of nice to hear everyone so relaxed and calm. But my mom and Shane were arguing so I started making my way back up to the camp like I was told, eventually joined by her after she'd said what she needed to say to Shane. I lagged behind, feeling annoyed at being removed from the fun of frog-gigging and that's when I heard the screams. I turned back around and ran down the path a ways and hid behind a rock, peeking over to see what was happening.

Carol was being held up by Jacqui and Amy as Andrea pushed Ed backwards as hard as her small frame could manage to push such a big man and I gasped when he started going after Andrea. Suddenly, Shane grabbed Ed by the shirt and punched him hard in the face...and kept punching him until Ed's face was covered in blood and all the fight went out of him. Carol ran forward and knelt down beside him, sobbing that she was sorry.

I didn't understand the scene back then too well, but now I do. Ed was an abusive son of a bitch and he deserved what he got next: a walker, the first walker of the night's massacre, wandered to his tent and went right for his throat. He never had a chance, and he didn't deserve one.

What I remember most about Ed was watching Carol destroy his dead brain to keep him from reanimating. I see now all the hurt and pain he caused her was a thing of the past, she broke his hold as she crushed his skull with a pickaxe, not once, but many times over.

I only wrote this part to let everyone know, sometimes humans are your worst enemy.

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**There's chappie two! Not a lot to say so I'll just sit here and wait for some feedback before I move onto the next chapter: Jim**


	3. Jim

**Hmmm...this fic doesn't seem to be going over too well. Whatever, still gonna write it :P**

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**JIM**

From what I remember of Jim, he was a nice man. He'd lost his entire family right before his eyes to walkers, he was the only one to escape because of how he put it; the dead were too busy eating his family to notice.

Jim didn't talk much, he was fairly silent and never wanted to rock the boat. But when he disappeared one morning up the hill from the camp and began furiously digging holes, that was unexpected even for the quietest of us. He just kept digging, digging, digging and nothing anyone said to him made any difference until Shane physically forced him back to camp. Shane said it was the heat getting to his head and Jim was tied to a tree and given a lot of water and some food to calm him back down. It worked and Jim seemed exhausted and embarrassed, he even apologized for scaring me.

But now, looking back, it seems maybe Jim wasn't just heat crazy...I believe he had a premonition because all those holes he dug were transformed into graves the very next morning.

After the massacre that claimed Ed, Amy and many others of our camp, we discovered Jim had been bitten by a walker during the fight. There was a lot of confrontation between my dad and Daryl Dixon over Jim's situation and I remember the jolt of fear that I felt when Daryl ran at Jim with that pickaxe, ready to take him down then and there...I know now, however, it would have been merciful to let it happen.

My father saved Jim from that pickaxe to the brain by telling Daryl that we don't kill the living, a philosophy that wouldn't last.

The quarry camp had become unsafe because of the walkers wandering out from Atlanta and Jim's only chance was to get to the CDC where my dad believed there would be help waiting for us, and maybe a cure. But Jim only made it halfway before the fever from the bite and the pain of the transformation happening inside him was too much. He knew he wasn't going to make it to the CDC.

Jim was a brave man, and proud, and he wanted to die his own way. My dad offered him a gun to end it quickly but Jim denied it and leaned back against the tree we had set him by, closing his eyes and looking somehow at peace and content. I'll never forget that moment when the cars of our caravan began to move...I couldn't take my eyes off Jim, alone against that tree, slowly dying as we left him.

But I know Jim was thinking of his wife and kids...knowing he would see them soon. He died with a calm, quietness, just as he had lived.

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**There you are, chapter three. Next up: Jaqui**


	4. Jaqui and Jenner

**Sitting here with my cat, Loki, chirping at me for attention...it is extremely difficult to write with a demanding cat next to you batting at your hands as you type...**

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**Jaqui and Dr. Edwin Jenner**

Jaqui was a kind lady, always smiling and laughing. She loved to watch us kids for our mothers when they were busy and was always there when anyone needed her. She was strong and she was absolutely beautiful.

My mom and Jaqui became close friends in the quarry and they were always doing something together it seemed. She had this ability to make things seem not so bad, always positive, like Amy.

Jaqui made it to the CDC with us, but she didn't leave with us.

The CDC didn't turn out like my dad had hoped, there was no safe zone and there was no cure, there was only a single scientist named Dr. Edwin Jenner who was still running tests in the abandoned facility.

Dr. Jenner didn't have any good news for us. He'd discovered that it was a virus that first killed you by shutting down your vital organs over time and then restarted the brainstem and rebooted the body's very basic functions...like hunger.

We didn't know this at the time, but he had also discovered it is a disease we are all infected with and even if we aren't bit when we die we will still become one of the living dead. But this wasn't the worst thing we discovered...

Jenner had given up after losing his wife and seeing all that happened after the dead took over and he was the last person left in the CDC. He told us that the building contained terrible things like smallpox and ebola and that he couldn't risk it ever getting out...so he was counting down the hours until a specialized explosion would occur and decontaminate the entire building.

Jenner offered us all to stay with him there, to end our fears and pain in a moment but the majority of us didn't want to die, not this way. Jenner finally opened the locked door to the central computer room and let us go...but Jaqui and Andrea wanted to stay and Dale wouldn't leave Andrea.

We ran as fast as we could, blew out a window, and piled into our vehicles. At the last possible moment, I saw Dale and Andrea climb out of the window we'd broken and they ran towards us, taking cover just in time before the entire building behind them exploded.

I watched the cloud of flames and smoke and debris with shock, the fact that Jaqui and Dr. Jenner were dead hit me and I hid my face in my mom's side to hide from the world.

Dr. Jenner had lost everything and had run numerous tests on his wife as she slowly died from the disease, he was more than ready to end this life. He deserved the peace of death.

Jaqui was strong...but she didn't want to live in this world, she wanted to go her own way and die clean and fast. I can't say I blame her and I never thought bad of her for taking the easy way out. I like to imagine she died with that smile that we all loved so much on her face. Somehow, I know she did.

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**Bed time for this girl. My entire body is sore from doing CPR on a woman yesterday and I can barely move my shoulders without them locking up in pain. It's not as easy as it looks...**

**Reviews would be great...I honestly have no idea what people are thinking of this story and I would really like to know!**


	5. Sophia

**Watching Storage Wars and feeling like writing. Can't do much else because my damn back is so sore! I seriously pulled something working that code last night. Freaking ouch.**

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**Sophia**

_Section written by Carol Peletier_

Sophia was my daughter, my only child by my husband Ed Peletier, the only thing I had in my life that was worth something to me. She was blonde, with her father's eyes, petite and long legged and she had my entire heart wrapped around her little finger. She was everything to me.

I'm not just saying this because she was my daughter, but Sophia had a heart of gold. She was always looking for ways to help people, always trying to raise the spirits of the other children at the quarry. But before all this happened, she was quiet and subdued, just like me.

She and I were deeply bonded by the abuse we both faced from Ed and I look back in shame now that I wasn't brave enough to run away with her and save her from the darkness of that life...but even more I am ashamed I couldn't save her from the darkness of this life. Not a day goes by that I don't play the moment over again in my mind and beat myself up for not going after her myself and keeping her safe. I know now that I would have had the strength, I could have saved her and it tears my heart in two to know that.

When the herd came down the highway, shambling through the traffic snarl, Sophia and were separated and both slid under different cars...but I could see her clearly from where Lori and I lay silently as we waited for the moans and shuffling feet to pass and I never took my eyes off her once. Lori had to clamp her hand over my mouth to keep my fearful cries silent as I watch in horror as my daughter began to slide out from under the car too soon. I heard her cries as she wiggled desperately away from the walker and out from under the vehicles, I watched her sneakered feet race away and that was the last I ever saw of my daughter...alive.

I was powerless to do anything but wait until the herd had completely passed, then I pushed Lori's hand away and scrambled out from under the car. I ran towards the guard rail that I had seen her feet heading towards and I saw a path in the grass where she had slid down the ditch and into the woods. I cried and begged someone to help her and Rick Grimes took off after her immediately.

It seemed like hours before Rick returned, Sophia was not with him. He told me he'd found her and told her to hide as he drew the walkers that had followed her away and that she should head back to the road when it was clear...but she hadn't come back. I saw the anguish in his eyes but I didn't care, I blamed him and I silently cursed him in my mind, he'd left my baby in the woods.

That night was the hardest night of my life, having to lay down and try to sleep, knowing my baby girl was alone in the woods, lost and afraid in the dark. I lay there in Dale's RV sobbing quietly, trying not to bother anyone. But Daryl Dixon was trying to sleep on the floor of the RV and he suddenly stood up and announced to Andrea he was going out to find my little girl. I raised my head up and looked at him, wiping away my tears, he simply nodded and walked out of the RV.

Andrea told me she was going too, she felt she needed to keep her mind occupied and she wanted to be of some help around here. I told her it wasn't necessary but she insisted and left me alone in the RV. I could hear Dale tramping around above me on the roof, keeping watch. Somehow, and I'll never know how, I managed to fall asleep, feeling confident that Daryl and Andrea would be successful.

But they weren't. They returned empty handed and somber, but their attempt had sparked something in the group and a search was organized. Daryl, Rick and a few others tracked her for a while, cutting open a stray walker to be sure it didn't contain any human remains in its guts, which, thankfully, it didn't. After their report, we all headed into the woods to follow the trail.

We heard a church bell ringing and hope flared in my chest for a while until we realized the bells were on a timer...Sophia was not ringing them. I went back inside the church and knelt at the altar, looking up at the blood speckled face of the crucifix. Next thing I know, I was praying out loud, confession my sins and begging for mercy on my daughter...I didn't even care who was listening.

Time went on and a lot happened after that. Carl was shot while we were in the woods and the focus shifted to saving his life...Daryl, Andrea and I seemed like the only ones who remembered Sophia was still out there. Daryl went looking every day.

I remember clearly the moment Daryl was dragged into the farmhouse, covered in dirt and blood. He was passed out but T-Dog silently handed me the only hope I'd had in days...Sophia's doll. It was tattered, dirty and disgusting but I hugged it close anyway and my eyes followed Daryl as Shane and Rick dragged him upstairs to where Hershel was waiting to check him over. I realized at that moment, there was something very personal about this search for Daryl.

But even Daryl's dogged searching and Andrea and Shane's search of the cul-de-sac resulted in nothing...when we found her, it was an absolute accident.

The Greene farm had a terrible secret, a barn full of walkers who Hershel believed could be restored. Apparently Otis, who had died days earlier, collected the walkers and put them in there to contain them and cure them eventually. When Shane found out, he went nuts, he couldn't stop thinking about it and when he saw Rick helping to round up walkers, he lost it. He smashed the locks on the barn, releasing a swarm of walkers into the barn yard and a massacre occurred before anyone could have time to think. I stood back, watching horror at the scene unfolding, I saw Hershel fall to his knees and the other members of the Greene farm were sobbing and screaming at everyone to stop. When the gunshots finally faded, I let out the breath I had been holding and hung my head, ashamed at how Shane had handled the situation...but all my thoughts of Shane disappeared in a heartbeat when I saw another figure emerge from the barn.

I stood there for a moment, struck deaf and dumb with shock, my ears ringing as I watched in stunned silence. My little girl was stumbling out of that barn, her arm raised to cover her eyes from the harsh sunlight and for a split second I almost believed she was alright...

But her arm fell and I saw her face, saw the gaping wound on her neck, saw the lifeless eyes and heard a vicious snarl issue from her blood stained mouth as she stumbled slightly on her dead legs, her oversized sneakers still tied in the knots I'd made days earlier. My mind broke and I ran, ran straight for the living nightmare that used to be my daughter, I had to reach her, I had to be sure, I had to comfort her. I felt arms wrap tightly around me and pull me back into a firm body, I stumbled and we went down to the ground together as I continued to reach out towards my daughter's walking corpse.

I knew what was coming, but the sharp sound of Rick's gun made me jerk and I watched in horror as my daughter's head flung back and she crumpled to the ground, silent and still. My heart shattered and I let the tears fall down my face as I let myself deflate in Daryl's arms.

I didn't attend my daughter's funeral. The way I saw it, my daughter had been dead for a long time and I had already buried her in my mind, I didn't need to see what she had become again.

Something changed in me that day, you would have thought it would have broken me...but I found my strength that day. Every bit of my past was gone, even the good parts and now I had to decide who I was going to be from now on. I chose that day to not be a victim anymore, to not dishonor Sophia's memory by being weak and afraid, no. I owed her more than that and I was going to survive.

But that was also the moment when I realized...there are no happy endings.

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**This was an enjoyable write, I actually teared up a bit while writing. Next up is Otis.**

**Gotta go and work on Clash and my Blade story and my Boondock Saints story and my new TWD story so...stay tuned because much more is coming!**


	6. Otis

**WHOO HOO, I GOT ONE REVIEW :D Sorry...reviews just make me extremely happy, and they make me eager to write more so here goes nothin'!**

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**Otis**

_Section written by Rick Grimes_

You want to know how I met this man named Otis? Alright, I'll tell you...he shot my son. Yeah, that's what I said: shot, like with a gun.

I was absolutely shocked beyond reason when I heard the shot ring out and watch the beautiful deer fall...and my son along with him. For a moment, I couldn't move, I just stared at Carl laying there in stunned silence. I vaguely heard Shane holler something and his movement at my side brought me back to the moment.

"You fat bastard!" was what I heard and I shook my head and I registered a large man emerging from the trees, a rifle in his hands. I immediately ran to my son as soon as my legs would work and I scooped him up and began to hyperventilate. Was he dead? He couldn't be!

"Follow me!" the large man said, taking off across the clearing, "I know a doctor, he can help him! Hurry!"

I didn't question it, what else could I do but follow? I ran after him, outpacing him after a small amount of time when we came to an open field, I saw a farmhouse in the distance and vaguely heard the name "Hershel" so I headed right for it, adrenaline kept me going strong as Otis stopped to take breather. Shane's angry voice telling Otis to move it faded behind me as I ran for the small spark of hope in the distance.

Hershel turned out to be a veterinarian, not a doctor, but he was all I had and he told me he needed to do emergency surgery to get the bullet out of my son or he would die. But the problem was, we needed a respirator to keep my son breathing during the operation. The large man, Otis volunteered to go fetch the equipment, claiming it was the least he could do, and I was relieved when Shane offered to go as well.

Lori, my wife, and I waited and waited in constant stress and fear for them to return and, after what seemed like a lifetime, we heard the truck approaching. I rushed to the porch and saw Shane emerge from the driver's seat, the respirator and essentials in hand and all I noticed at that moment was how relieved I was to see Shane and that equipment...until Hershel spoke up.

"And Otis?"

My stomach dropped and Shane's look said it all before he even spoke.

"He didn't make it."

Carl made it through the surgery and things started to click in my mind. Shane was limping, he'd shaved his head, he looked...ashamed. I didn't realize what had happened right then, but looking back now it was obvious: Shane had something he was hiding.

When Lori told me that she believed Shane had killed Otis so he could get away, I knew she was right...even if I didn't want to believe it.

But eventually it all came out, Shane had injured his ankle and the walkers were everywhere, swarming them as they both tried to stay ahead of them. Shane saw that they were not going to escape alive...not both of them, so he shot Otis in the leg and left him as a distraction, taking the respirator from him and saving himself. But also...saving my son.

I see why Shane did it, I really do, I probably would have done the same. But Otis deserves to be remembered for his sacrifice. His death was ultimately my son's life. It was murder, but, looking back, I see that...it was necessary.

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**Ok, my ass hurts from sitting on my crappy couch writing all night so I am going to go play with my cats on the floor for a bit!**

**Next up: Dale :(**


	7. Dale

**Well, got some feedback and they're positive so I guess I'll keep this up :) **

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**Dale**

Dale Horvath was the oldest person in our quarry group and by far the wisest. He had come up from Florida in his RV with Andrea and Amy, he had found them and taken them in...because that was Dale, that's who he was.

Dale loved Andrea and Amy like his own daughters, they were all he had until they joined up with our group in Atlanta. Once he was with a large group, his protective and caring nature spread to all of us.

Dale seemed to be able to read people, like he knew us better than ourselves. Dale saved Andrea's life at the CDC, he saw something in her that she didn't see: her strength. Somehow, Dale knew she was going to be a survivor. Dale saw that Daryl was going to be important to our group and that he was going to be there for my dad. Dale saw how alone my mother was and helped her stay positive when she discovered she was pregnant with my sister. Dale also saw Shane for who he was before anyone else.

The Greene farm had become a safe place for us, we were getting comfortable there...until the night my dad returned from bringing Hershel back from the bar where he'd gone to drink after the barn massacre. My dad, Glenn and Hershel returned and they had brought a fourth person, Randall. Randall had been in a group which had attacked my dad and the others in town, but Randall had been injured and left behind and my dad couldn't leave him to die.

But Randall was not welcomed into our group. Daryl interrogated him and discovered this guy's group was not a friendly one, he told Daryl they had killed innocent people, stolen and raped and my dad was afraid that this group would come back for Randall and outnumber us.

A meeting was called and everyone gathered in the living room of the farmhouse. I was sent upstairs but Beth and I hid in the kitchen so we could hear the debate.

The overwhelming majority believe that Randall should be killed, executed then and there...but Dale stood up for the kid. Dale's voice, I'll never forget it, was cracking with emotion as he begged for Randall's life, pleaded for everyone to not be so quick to take a life. I remember him saying that if they chose to kill Randall then we were no better than Randall's group.

Andrea rewarded Dale by being the only one to agree with him, but it wasn't enough support to sway the vote and Dale walked out of that meeting, tears in his eyes, stopping only for a moment to tell Daryl he was right about the group being broken.

We didn't kill Randall that night, we didn't kill him at all, but Dale didn't know my dad had changed his mind and had wandered out to the pasture to gather his thoughts, I suppose. I don't know exactly what happened but the next thing we knew, we heard the screaming echoing from the pasture and we ran as fast as we could...but we were too late.

Dale was laying on the grass, gasping, gurgling...I'll never forget that sound. I didn't want to look at him but I couldn't help it, his abdomen was torn open, insides pouring out and steaming in the cold air. I looked away, but I wished then that I hadn't. The walker that lay off to the side was all too familiar.

I had seen that walker earlier that day, stuck in the mud. I'd been going to shoot it, but I had decided to tease it instead and it had pulled itself free of the mud and I had run...like a coward. If I had shot it, if I had done what I was supposed to do, Dale would be alive.

But I hadn't and now Dale was laying in a pool of his own blood, dying slowly. Andrea begged my dad to end it, but my dad couldn't bring himself do it and Daryl gently took the gun from his hand, kneeling down to Dale's side. I heard him mutter "Sorry, Brother." before he pulled the trigger and ended Dale's suffering. It was the first of many times that Daryl would ease the burden of leadership off my dad's shoulders...Dale had been right about him all along.

When we buried Dale, something among the group changed. Somehow, we all suddenly realized Dale had been right all along...there was good in all of us and we couldn't lose it so easily. We had to honor Dale in this way: keep our humanity.

And, despite all we have done, the people we have killed...I believe we have kept that promise. We haven't lost ourselves. Not yet.

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**I really liked this chapter, because Dale was a very important character in this way. He really did keep them from making a terrible mistake, reminded them to be better than they thought they could. I miss Dale immensely :(**

**Review, my lovely readers!**


	8. Shane

**I think this will be a pretty interesting chapter, and I have a bit of free time while my husband is gone out so I figured it's a good time to get a chappie out there :)**

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**Shane**

_Section written by Rick Grimes_

Shane wasn't just my partner at work, he was also my best friend since before high school. We were born and raised in the same town and we ended up staying there to work in law enforcement after the Academy. We had a lot of adventures together and told a lot of stories and got into a lot of trouble, and Shane always had my back. He was a great partner...an even better friend.

Until the world went to shit.

We had set up a road block, set out the spike strip, taken down two assailants with weapons, and everything had been done by the book. My adrenaline was still pumping as I recovered from the shock of the bullet colliding with my vest, but relief flooded me when I saw it had done its job and the bullet hadn't gone through. Shane came running to me, his voice filled with fright, and I assured him I was alright. I stood and my mind was filled with Lori and Carl and how scary this close call would have been for them and I turned to tell Shane never to tell Lori about what had just happened. A loud noise split the air and I felt a pain shoot through my entire body and I was spun around off my feet to the ground. I vaguely remember Shane raising his weapon and his face hovering over mine, blocking out the hot Georgia sun, and then my vision went black.

I woke up days later, or weeks later, not a hundred percent sure...but it was long enough for my entire world to change. I woke up to the dead and the ruined town, napalm burns on the buildings, shattered windows, utterly splintered trees...a warzone. Bodies were piled high outside the hospital, bodies crawled across the grass towards me, walked towards me, shuffled.

When I finally found my way back to my family and the group they had taken refuge with, I was delighted to see Shane there as well and I knew he'd gotten my wife and son out of there safely. I owed him everything then and I was so blind that I didn't see how much he had changed already.

There were little signs all over now that I look back: his unwillingness to help people, his over protectiveness of Lori and Carl, his unhappy looks when Lori and I were close, the way he was wording things, his aggressiveness...but I either didn't notice at the time or I was too eager to push it aside and ignore it.

At first, after we lost Sophia on the highway, Shane seemed discouraged and that's what I chalked his attitude about the search for her to. He seemed inconvenienced by Sophia's plight, annoyed even. He grumbled and kept saying it was a waste of time, that Sophia didn't stand a chance out here alone. It escalated even more when we reached the Greene farm.

Something changed very noticeably after the run for the ventilator to save Carl's life. He came back and Otis didn't and he seemed uneager to discuss anything that happened, he shaved off all his hair, started getting even more aggressive and protective and challenging. When the walkers were discovered in the barn his temper hit an all time high and he wouldn't let it go. He posted guards by the barn, checked all the locks himself every single day many times a day, he was constantly looking at it, always on edge...until the day he snapped and released them all and we finally found Sophia.

He seemed subdued for a while after that, but it didn't last long. When Randall was brought back to the farm it sparked a whole new issue with him, causing him to react in the same way the walkers in the barn had. He worried constantly, kept asking me what we were supposed to do with him, argued for his execution.

Everything about him changed in my mind the day Lori came to me in our tent and told me Shane was willing to kill to protect what he believed to be his...and she believed that he considered her to be his. I had already known Shane and Lori had slept together after they believed me to be dead and had to leave me behind in the hospital, but this was a whole new ball game. Lori was MY wife and I would be damned if he thought he could ever have her.

I saw just what Shane had become the day we took Randall to be released 18 miles from the farm. We got into a physical altercation, resulting in both us being bloodied and bruised, but I was walking backing away as the victor. As I turned to walk away, I heard a clinking sound and Shane let out a ferocious roar...I barely ducked out of the way as a giant wrench flew past my head, thrown with deadly aim and meaningful force. He had meant to kill me.

I should have left him then, when he was surrounded by the walkers in a broken down school bus, but our friendship of all those years was all I could think of so I threw Randall in the driver's seat and we rescued him in a drive by at the back of the bus.

Shane seemed to have put it behind him after I laid down the rules, he remained silent and thoughtful the whole drive back to the farm and was oddly compliant about Randall's captivity. He behaved for some time.

This is why when he stumbled into the yard, face bashed and bloody, claiming Randall had escaped and ambushed him in the woods when he went after him, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. But as we split up and headed into the woods to search, I knew this was going to be the final confrontation...one of us was not coming back to that farm alive.

He led me away, deep into the woods and out into the field where Dale had died. Finally, we came to a stop and we were both silent for a few moments.

"So, this is where you plan to do it?" I asked, already knowing exactly what he would say.

"Good a place as any," was his callous reply.

After all those years, all our lives together as partners and friends, it had all come down to this...and he wasn't feeling a single bit of remorse. How had we gotten here? I felt my throat constrict, not from fear, but from anguish...knowing what I would have to do. We talked for a bit, he laid out all the ways I'd done him wrong, pointed out my weaknesses, told me I wasn't good enough for my wife and children, and I went along with him, buying some time, making a plan.

When he drew his gun, I almost thought I was going to lose this fight...that it would be me who was "jumped and killed by Randall", who would be laying dead in this field while this monster laid claim to MY family. But he must have felt some hesitation in what he was about to do, because he allowed me to take out my gun and slowly move forward to hand it over as I announced he would have to kill me unarmed because I wasn't going to fight him.

A second of distraction as he reached for the gun, his eyes flicking down for a moment, was all it took. He hadn't accounted for the knife I now carried with me at all times and I drew it in a flash, sticking it deeply and firmly under his ribs. His gun went off but I barely noticed it.

"This was you, not me!" I screamed as he stumbled back and began to gurgle as blood filled his lungs. We collapsed together on the grass as I yanked the blade out, letting his heart bleed out onto the ground.

I took no pleasure in this. I was broken. My heart was in a million pieces and I sobbed and cried into my best friend's dead body in that stupid field of blood. I was worse than Sophia, Sophia had already been dead when I shot her, but this was the first human being I ever killed like this...I had no idea he wouldn't be the last.

My son found us there, his voice broke as he called to me questioningly. He didn't know, how could he? I rose to explain to him what had happened and I was shocked and confused when my own son raised his gun and pointed it at me. I stopped dead in my tracks and raised my hand, begging him to listen to me, to put the gun down, but he remained there, shaking and wide-eyed.

When the shot sounded, my heart skipped a beat and I swore I was dead...but I was still standing, my son's gun smoking in the cold air, his eyes fixed behind me in terror. I turned around to see Shane's body, not three feet behind me...he had risen and my son had just saved my life by putting down a man who was a second father to him.

I never wanted this for me or for my boy, I had been so overjoyed to see Shane alive in that quarry, to be reunited with my family and best friend...I never envisioned this ending. But there was one thing I learned from Shane that I hold close to this day: my family, every single person that I take under my protection, are worth more to me than the life of anyone who threatens them or myself. I was afraid to be the bad guy, to kill without mercy, to take a life...but after the two men I shot and killed at the bar, Shane's betrayal cemented the truth in my mind. My people come first. Always.

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**R.I.P Shane. I honestly miss the elements of drama and uncertainty Shane's presence brought into the mix. He was a crazy, ticking time bomb of rage and psychosis.**

**Leave me reviews because I love them and I love my readers!**


	9. Patricia and Jimmy

**Feeling like getting a chapter done for ya'll tonight before I get up for work at 5 AM. Hoping for a good shift tomorrow with no codes or psychs or 6 hour transfers or meetings with the coroner...probably won't happen but I can wish :)**

**Last shift my partner and I drove a psych down to the boot heel of Missouri...that is a rough neighborhood and I hope I don't have to go again anytime soon! Stay away from the boot heel, folks...northern Missouri is the place to go if you want to come here :)**

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**Patricia and Jimmy**

_Section by Maggie Greene_

Patricia and Jimmy weren't related to me but the apocalypse, or whatever you choose to call it, threw us together. Patricia and Otis, of course, worked on our farm as our farm-hands, but Jimmy came to our farm in a panic, claiming his family had been eaten, to Beth's arms. Beth was so glad to see him that I eagerly accepted him into our home without question...of course this made extra work for daddy because he had to constantly be chasing them about and keeping them out of trouble.

Patricia and I always got along very well, she was always willing to help with anything that needed to be done on the farm, in fact she took over the horribly unpleasant job of feeding the walkers we kept in the barn...it had been Otis' chore until his unfortunate death, but she took it over with a quiet acceptance. Daddy loved having her around because she was familiar with medical work and helped out with taking care of the cows and horses on the farm.

When Rick came charging up to the house with Carl in his arms, covered in blood, Patricia jumped right in with my daddy to set up the room for surgery, her hands were confident and sure as she handed my daddy everything he asked her for.

Jimmy was a quiet kid, but I knew right away he was going to be a handful around my sister. Lord knows I caught them in the act enough times to make life on the farm interesting, it was kind of fun to watch daddy freak out about it, but Beth always got out of trouble with her big blue eyes and sweet face...I always envied her for that. It's safe to say I probably envied her for Jimmy as well.

But Jimmy kept my little sister's mind off our dead mother and our step brother so I was grateful for him being there, I guess Beth helped keep him sane too after he lost his family.

Sometimes I think about the two of them, Patricia and Jimmy, and I wonder what they would be like today if they'd lived through what we all have. Would Patricia be brave and bold? Would Jimmy be strong and tough? What could they have brought to our family and how would we be different with them here?

Unfortunately, one night took them both from us very suddenly. When we saw the barn go up in flames and saw the mass of walkers heading towards the farm from the woods, it was sudden chaos. We were all split up in our attempt to escape alive, Glenn and I were in the Hyundai and we tried our best to fight off the invading horde of dead. I saw Jimmy drive the RV to the barn to get Rick and Carl out of the barn loft, but I watched in horror as several walkers made their way into the door of it, Rick and Carl looked back and hesitated then began to run...and I knew Jimmy hadn't gotten out of the RV.

Glenn saw how useless the situation was and yelled at me to leave, to get off the farm. That was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life, leaving that farm. I wanted to look for survivors, rescue my daddy and sister...but there was no way to get through the bodies, not even the direction Rick and Carl ran to. There was nothing I could do, so I drove away from my home and cried and screamed in frustration and helplessness.

When we reached the highway and reunited with our people, it was one of the best moments I can remember...but that's when the truth hit me: Jimmy was truly gone...and Patricia as well, torn right out of Beth's arms.

It wasn't my first loss...but this was different. The suddenness of the whole thing, having everything I had known torn from my life just like that. Not even having the chance to see their bodies and have that closure...different at that time and very hard.

But as hard as it was to lose them like that...I think seeing the bodies of your loved ones is even worse as I would discover all too soon.

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**This was kind of hard to write since we don't get much feel for these two at all, but I had to include them because no character is too small :)**

**Review and make me smile when I wake up tomorrow, folks!**


	10. T-Dog

**The new episode got me in the memorial kind of mood...so on to the next character we've lost :(**

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**T-DOG**

_Section written by Carol Peletier_

Theodore Douglas was a man I am proud to have known, a man of strong conviction and fearless devotion. Before I met him, the story I heard was that he drove around his town with his church bus, offering rides to anyone who needed one...and many of them came with him to the quarry.

He was always putting other people ahead of him, never feeling they owed him anything. That's just who he was.

I remember when Merle Dixon got left behind in Atlanta. It had been T-Dog who went back for him when the other's ran, but he dropped the handcuff keys. You could see it in his eyes how haunted he was to leave someone behind like that, even someone like Merle. But that's who T-Dog was.

I remember how he stayed silent about the massive cut on his arm because everyone was worried about Sophia and Carl. He had an infection and could have died but he felt the others were more importent. That's who T-Dog was.

I remember how he tried to convince us that Axel and Oscar should be welcomed into our group, forgiven and accepted. He argued for them when no one else would...and in the end, he had been right about them. Oscar and Axel had turned out to be blessings in disguise to our group, good at heart men. T-Dog saw it...because that's who T-Dog was.

I remember the walkers streaming through the gate, filling the inner prison yard and separating us all from eachother. T-Dog was the first to notice and he ran right for the gate to close it, knowing it had to be done because we were going to be quickly outnumbered. He shut that gate and risked his life to do it because that's who T-Dog was. But this time, he didn't get out of it in one piece. I heard him scream and I spun around to see, to my complete horror, the walker latch on to his neck, ripping a large chunk out before T-Dog managed to push it away. He stumbled over to me and I pulled him into the first open door I saw, into the darkness of the prison halls.

I remember the last words he ever spoke to me.

"STOP!" I said, seeing the walkers in the end of the hallway, blocking the doorway I knew would lead out of these tombs.

"Why?" T-Dog asked grimly, "To sit here and wait to die?"

I knew what he was thinking.

"I'll do what I have to," I assured him quickly, "You're not becoming one of those things!"

"I can't ask that."

"It's the pact, remember?"

And that's when he looked at me, his face grim and determined.

"This is God's plan. He'll take care of me. Always has. He's gonna help me lead you out of these tunnels."

And he pulled away from me, there was nothing I could do. He barrel into the walkers, pushing them back and making a space for me to get through. I ran. I had to. But I couldn't quite manage to go without looking back.

T-Dog met my eyes, his face scared but sure.

"Go!" he cried desperately at me, "I'm dead!"

And I saw the walkers start to rip him apart, piece by piece and my heart shattered. I couldn't watch and I couldn't do anything to help...I had to honor him by living and escaping now. I ran out that door, blinded by my tears and quickly ran into another group of walkers which caused me to slip through another door, back into the tunnels. I ran until I came to a spot in the halls where I couldn't go forward or back, so I hid inside a closet.

I huddle there in the dark, trying to stay quiet as I cried over the loss of my friend.

He had sacrificed himself to close that gate and he had sacrificed himself again to save me.

Because THAT is who Theodore Douglas was.

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**God Bless T-Dog. I miss him terribly and his death is still one of the hardest for me...**


End file.
